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Entry tags:
TW Fic: Other-Ianto
Title: Other-Ianto
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,863
Warnings: None.
Notes: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oxoniensis for the speedy and awesome beta.
Summary: The other version of him comes through looking exactly like him: neatly tailored suit over scrawny shoulders, hair a little long at the back (overdue for a trim), hands in his pocket. He gives Ianto a quick nod and then says, "Bit odd seeing yourself."
The device sits in the middle of the conference table. It's small, about the size of Ianto's palm, neon orange and a curved cone shape, like a sphere has been cut in half and squished a little. They found it by the edge of Splot.
Jack walks past, sees it and grins. He doesn't stop Tosh's careful exploration but Ianto recognises the knowing expression on Jack's face. "Know what it is?" Ianto asks and Jack shoots him a quick smile.
"Human design," Jack says easily. "49th century, back when time manipulation was all the rage in popular circles."
"What is it?" Tosh asks, serious.
"It's a TiMan. Personal time manipulator."
"Like your wrist strap?"
"No." Jack holds up his wrist, pointing at the simple leather band. "This is an impressive piece of equipment that does... more than I should tell you. When it's fully functioning. That," Jack points at the cheery orange device, "is more of a party trick. Lets you go back and relive two hours, and then wake up two hours in the future. It lets you hop around two hours, not travel for any length of time."
Ianto looks around the table: everyone wears similar frowns of confusion. Slowly, Gwen says, "What's the point of that? What can you do in two hours?"
Grinning, Jack raises an eyebrow. "If I have to explain that, Rhys has far less stamina than I'd assumed."
Gwen snorts. "They didn't invent a gadget just to go back in time and sleep with themselves."
"Think about the type of geeks that invent these things," Owen says, leaning over the table for a closer look. "Spend hours and hours pouring over data, stuck on your own. They probably would. Nobody else would want to sleep with them."
"So you're saying that mastering time travel was easier than making a realistic blow-up doll?" Gwen asks.
"Could be useful at work," Ianto says, ignoring the suggestive grin Jack gives him. "In an emergency situation, you could double the number of people responding to the situation and they'd have the same level of knowledge. In fact, since one version had already lived through it--"
"Temporary memory inhibitor," Jack interrupts. "A little like cloning memories. Up to the point of duplication, both remember the same history but while both are in the same room, each version only remembers their experiences. Otherwise, people try to divert emergencies and that really screws up the time continuum."
Tosh frowns. "How does it work? Wouldn't people get surprised by having a second version of them suddenly appear?"
"From what I remember, you had to preset the device. You turned it on at the start of the two hour period, and a second version would appear. Then it'd turn itself off after two hours and you'd pass out, waking up two hours later." As always, Jack loves being the centre of attention and loves showing off his knowledge. "Ianto's right. They were used on the earlier space-cruisers, as a back-up in times of emergency. Those things were run with skeleton crews and the computer systems had a lot of major flaws, so extra hands were important. Double the engineers, double the medics, and most things could be fixed."
"Should it go into the vault?" Ianto asks.
"Nah. I mean, try it if you want. It's fun, but there's only so much time you can spend in your own company. Just make sure you're lying down when you turn it off, saves a lot of bruises."
Gwen eyes it interestedly. Owen looks completely bored by the idea, which is probably for the best. Two Owens for two hours might use up the world's supply of sarcasm.
"Maybe later," Tosh says, moving on to the next unclassified device on the table.
***
Since the others don't want to use it, Ianto... claims it. Only for practical purposes, like organising the five boxes of mixed pages dropped on his desk by Owen, who'd said, "Oh, yeah, found these in one of the autopsy drawers. I think they were supposed to be filed, maybe last year."
After getting through one box, Ianto sees it's a two-man job. While Jack would certainly be willing to help, he wouldn't stay focused on the task for long. Gwen and Tosh could be talked into helping, but they don't care about filing, which means Ianto would have to double check their files anyway.
Using the small orange device seems most practical.
He gets a spare suit, clean shirt and a tie, just in case. (He's watched Terminator a few times; best to be prepared because there's never a good reason for filing naked.)
The other version of him comes through looking exactly like him: neatly tailored suit over scrawny shoulders, hair a little long at the back (overdue for a trim), hands in his pocket.
He gives Ianto a quick nod and then says, "Bit odd seeing yourself."
"Yes," Ianto says slowly. "I wanted to..."
"Do the filing," his other self replies. "I remember pressing the button. Nothing since then."
"Well, just this moment since then," Ianto corrects and they both nod.
"Do you want the first box or the second?"
"First," says Ianto. "Coffee?"
"After the first two boxes," the Other-Ianto says. Then they set to work.
***
Ianto wakes with the strange sensation of remembering standing on his left side, sorting through the first box, while he also stood on his right side, sorting through the second. The memories overlap. If he thinks carefully -- concentrates on the pages in his hand or the files he opened -- he knows he could remember both clearly.
It's still strange. But strange is something he's come to accept while working at Torchwood.
***
Upon reflection, Ianto decides it's strange but good. He still spent four hours filing but it only felt like two hours at the time, and he had company. Someone who understood the importance of following simple alphabetical and numerical order. Someone he could trust to remember that L always came before O and that 2-13-15 was less than 2-14-14. There was something reassuring about finding a manila folder filed wrongly, handing it to someone else to file and knowing it would go where it belonged.
He takes care to use the device responsibly. He only uses it at night, so no one will need him while he goes missing for two hours. Just in case, he sets his email to respond automatically, explaining when he switched the device on and where he'll eventually be found.
He watches for any side effects: being overly tired, or drained, or anything out of the norm. But it all seems fine.
So he keeps using it.
***
Then Ianto gets an idea.
***
"Ianto?" he hears Jack call out.
"Making coffee," Ianto calls back, pulling down a lever. The coffee flows through, dark and strong, and Ianto breathes in the scent. As he hears Jack walk towards him he nods over his shoulder. Other-Ianto steps back, disappearing into the shadows behind the stairs.
When Jack comes up behind Ianto, there's only one of him.
"Want to make a cup for me?" Jack asks, sliding warm hands around Ianto's waist.
Ianto nods over at the counter. He finishes filling the cup in his hand, and sets it down beside the others on the counter. "I already have."
"Three cups? I thought it was just us." Jack sighs, disappointed. "Who else is here?"
"It is just us," Ianto says, then the other Ianto steps out. "In a manner of speaking."
Jack, for his credit, only stares for a second. Then he laughs. "You've been playing with the TiMan?"
"Useful for filing," Ianto says.
"And a lot easier than trying to explain how the alphabet works," Other-Ianto adds. He takes a sip of coffee.
Jack digs his nails into the soft wool over Ianto's hips. "Is this leading where I think it's leading?"
"Well," Ianto stalls.
"The filing's done," Other-Ianto says suggestively.
Jack grins. "Have I mentioned that I love the way your mind works?"
Ianto snorts. Then looks sideways quickly, realising Other-Ianto snorted at the same time. "We should go back to mine," Ianto says as Other-Ianto says, "Your bed's too small for this, Jack."
"Who's driving?"
Ianto fishes keys out of his pocket. Looking over, he sees that Other-Ianto has done the same.
"We've both got keys," Other-Ianto says.
Ianto nods. "I'd rather drive."
Other-Ianto pulls a face, probably wanting to drive as much as Ianto does. Jack pulls his hands away and walks over to Other-Ianto, sliding his fingers under the jacket and over the thin material at the back of Ianto's waistcoat. Ianto knows how good that can feel.
Jack leans in, saying in a voice pitched just loud enough for Ianto to hear, "We can make out in the back seat."
***
It's very strange, Ianto finds himself thinking. Every time he looks in the back mirror, he can see Jack kissing him. Well, not him -- Other-Ianto -- but it's still him. That's where the strange part comes in.
It makes him think of that time in the interrogation room, after Jack first installed the mirror. Stretching back on the small table, legs wrapped around Jack, kissing and watching them kiss at the same time.
But this is watching without feeling it, and it's... odd. Very odd.
Ianto shifts in the drivers seat. It's also very hot.
When he glances back, Other-Ianto is licking along the line of Jack's jaw, just under the joint. Ianto tightens his fingers on the steering wheel. He knows how that feels, knows the soft press of skin under his tongue, the slight hardness of bone underneath; he knows the way it makes Jack gasp and squirm, clenching fingers into Ianto's back or shoulder or hip -- god, wherever Jack's holding at the time -- the way Jack can only take so much, then he'll grab Ianto, hands soft but firm against his cheeks, and kiss him like he doesn't need air.
Except from this angle, it looks more like Jack needs the contact to breathe, like he's drowning without his mouth on Other-Ianto's.
Ianto pulls into his street and parks quickly. He never realised he made so much noise when they kissed.
***
Ianto discovers some important things.
Firstly, a queen sized bed is big enough to fit three fully grown men.
Secondly, forewarned is forearmed. Or in this case, having spent a good while thinking about this -- thinking about Jack and what he'd do if he had a second pair of hands -- gives him enough of an insight into Other-Ianto's mind. Enough that when Other-Ianto nods his head, shifting it to the side just a little and raises his eyebrows in a question, Ianto nods and starts pulling off his own tie.
Jack's already on the bed. He shucked off shoes, socks, trousers and shirt surprisingly quickly, and now he's sprawled there, gloriously naked. Watching them.
Ianto slows down and Other-Ianto matches his pace: tugging at the tie, taking it off and folding it carefully. Flicking open the button at the neck of his shirt and then pausing, as if he'd just remembered his cuffs, undoing the cufflinks at each of his wrist -- putting them carefully in his jacket pocket -- and then returning to the shirt.
It's slightly hilarious the way that Jack's eyes keep darting between them as if he doesn't know where to look and can't bear missing a second.
When he's completely naked, he strolls up to the bed and Other-Ianto mirrors him. Both of them kneel on a corner of the bed, both of them crawling towards Jack and Jack's grinning widely, pleased as punch.
They continue with the symmetry, starting at Jack's ankles. Ianto wraps his hand around Jack's right ankle, bows his head, licks along the tendon, the curve of bone at the joint. Drags his mouth up slowly.
He has a vague awareness of the shuffling on the bed, of Other-Ianto probably doing the exact same thing -- pausing to bite sharply at the outside calf muscle, making Jack hiss through his teeth -- but he's too focused on the taste of skin under his lips to look over and check.
He's listening to Jack's gasp, to Jack's "Oh!" and "Surely you're not going to do that all night," because Jack's nothing if not impatient.
Ianto pauses, lips just below Jack's knee, and smiles up at him. "You have something else planned?"
"I'd like to kiss you," Jack says, smiling. He always takes a surprisingly innocent joy in sex; it baffles Ianto as much as it charms him.
Ianto nods and moves up the bed a little further, stretches out beside Jack, curled up against his shoulder and presses a kiss there. He works his fingers into the brawn of Jack's bicep, holding on tight. Waiting for Jack to reach out, to grab him, to pull him closer. To kiss him.
It only takes an extra few seconds, then Jack's kissing him. The moment that Jack pulls away, Other-Ianto's there with a hand on Jack's jaw, tugging him into a second kiss.
When they pull apart, Ianto looks past Jack, catches Other-Ianto's eye and grins. "Heads or tails?"
This is the advantage of having thought about it: he knows what Other-Ianto knows and he knows exactly how they thought about it.
So when Other-Ianto says, "Tails," Ianto nods, gets a hand on Jack's shoulder and pulls him onto his side. Jack rolls over to face Ianto, looking a bit dazed and ridiculously happy.
Ianto can't resist giving Jack a quick kiss. Then he shuffles down the bed, mouth touching random places as he goes: curve of chest, the soft dip below Jack's ribcage, the line of thigh leading to hips.
He lies down with Jack's cock right in front of his face and gets a hand beneath Jack's knee, lifting it to his own shoulder. Ianto really has thought about this. Picked out the easiest way to open his mouth, to suck on Jack's cock, to work his lips around the head.
He moves his head forward a few inches and lets Jack set the pace -- slow, so good -- then Jack freezes, letting out a small moan, a small "Mmmm..." sound. Ianto doesn't look up, he doesn't need to. He knows exactly what Other-Ianto is doing.
He knows because it's what he would do in Other-Ianto's place. Spread Jack wide, lick down between his cheeks, press his tongue inside. Fuck him so intimately with slow, wet strokes until Jack groans again, twisting his hips back.
Ianto slides his hand up the back of Jack's thigh, creeping higher until his fingers brush Other-Ianto's, until it's both of their hands holding Jack open. Jack sighs out his name -- "Ianto..." -- and Ianto sucks hard in response.
Mouth luxuriously full, Ianto listens to the sound of Jack breathing, the way it gets sharper, faster. Jack hooks his leg over Ianto's back, bare foot drawing patterns against his skin, rubbing aimlessly as every twitch of Jack's hips nudges his cock against the back of Ianto's throat.
Jack gets a hand in Ianto's hair, twisting painfully tight and repeats his name. The vowels grow shorter and harsher with each repetition, but it's still somehow a surprise when Jack comes.
It's not the lack of warning, because Ianto's used to that. It's the suddenness -- the speed of it -- that surprises him. Jack usually lasts a lot longer than that.
Then again, Ianto thinks, catching Other-Ianto's eye as he sits up and moves up the bed, Jack is somewhat out-numbered right now.
***
The second time they try it is in Jack's office with Jack spread out over his desk, Ianto fucking him with short, blunt thrusts and Other-Ianto sprawled in Jack's chair, kissing Jack with one hand on the back of Jack's head and the other sliding down Jack's chest.
Jack has Ianto's cock in his arse and Other-Ianto's tongue in his mouth and -- judging by the loud groans he makes as Other-Ianto's hand wraps around his cock -- couldn't be happier.
***
Ianto falls asleep wondering if it's possible to be jealous of yourself.
***
Ianto happily ignores the situation for a while. Jack doesn't hint -- well, Jack mentions sex as often as he usually does, but nothing specific -- and Ianto doesn't mention the device. He still uses it for filing late at night, though.
He's down in the archives when he hears Jack stomping down the corridor, hollering for Ianto, and reacts accordingly when the door swings open: he hides behind one of the filing cabinets.
"Ianto?"
He doesn't want Jack to see two of them there, but he doesn't exactly want to say that to Jack, so he holds his breath and waits until the door slams shut before he moves. When he stands up straight, he sees Other-Ianto sheepishly step out from behind the stack of archive boxes in the far corner.
"Oh," Ianto says.
"Yeah," says Other-Ianto, shrugging at him and looking guiltily towards the door. "This isn't really..."
"...practical," Ianto says eventually, running a hand through his hair. Frowning, he adds, "Do you want to..."
"Tell him? No." Other-Ianto pulls a face. The same pinched, just-bit-into-a-lemon expression is probably on Ianto's face too. "But we should."
Ianto hears himself sigh in stereo.
***
There's only so long you can hide from your combined boss and boyfriend before it gets ridiculous.
"This is getting ridiculous," Ianto hears himself say. Well, hears the Other-Ianto say beside him.
They're both crouched behind the coffee machine, waiting for the sound of Jack's office door closing.
"I thought you'd tell him," Ianto says, which is true. In a way. He'd thought if he ducked behind the bench, Other-Ianto would be forced to make an excuse; probably should have realised they'd both think of that.
"That doesn't work when we're both the same person."
"No, it doesn't." Ianto allows himself a sigh. He has to tell Jack, he knows it. If he doesn't force himself to walk into Jack's office right now and explain, he'll never do it and if he doesn't do it, Other-Ianto will never do it because he never did it in the first place. Even inside his own head, it's a bit confusing.
But he has to do it, so Ianto takes a deep breath, stands up and… finds that Other-Ianto has stood up as well. "Both or none, yeah?"
Other-Ianto grimaces. "We could always break the device."
It's not the first time Ianto's thought of it. "But this is Torchwood. As soon as you break something…"
"…You're going to need it for the next alien."
They give each other a hopeful smile -- which from the outside is not very convincing -- and head over to Jack's office.
When Ianto opens the door, Jack's sitting at his desk, staring at the ceiling. Jack gives a nod as Other-Ianto walks through the door and closes it behind him and then says, as casually as anything, "Decided to stop avoiding me?"
"We haven't really been avoiding you," Ianto says, as Other-Ianto says, "It's not really avoidance," and they both stop talking at the same time. There's a moment where Ianto and Other-Ianto eye each other, and nobody wants to talk first.
Thankfully, Jack breaks the silence with, "Any chance one of you could make me a coffee?"
Other-Ianto dashes out the door with a "Yes, sir," thrown behind him. Ianto would begrudge him the easy escape if he didn't know he'd do the exact same thing if he'd been the one standing closest to the door.
"It's not--" Ianto starts but it is, because he has been avoiding Jack. "I didn't think you'd noticed."
Jack makes a snorting sound of disbelief, rolling those ridiculously blue eyes of his.
Ianto has to fight the urge to shrug. "Look, it's just…"
"It makes you uncomfortable." Jack says it like he's never been uncomfortable but he's heard it's one of those things other people feel. "You could have said something."
Now, Ianto shrugs. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."
"As I recall," Jack says, dragging a finger across his lower lip, "so were you."
"Yes, but--" Ianto stops himself. He's not sure it should be something said aloud. Jack's watching as if he's vaguely interested, not annoyed and certainly not personally involved, and Ianto's pretty sure Jack's faking the nonchalance. Which means Jack really wants the answer.
If he's not faking it, then it's just plain indifference and he'd feel stupid keeping a secret Jack doesn't even care about.
"It's like seeing you with someone else," Ianto says a little too quietly. "I know it's me but it's not me at the time, and it feels like seeing you with someone else."
Jack smirks. "Always knew you were the jealous type."
"I'm not," Ianto objects instinctively, and then amends it. "Well, I am, a bit, but it's not like that."
"Then what's it like?"
"It's, well, it's like getting to see the future. I mean, I know I'm not always going to be around, and there'll be other people in your life. And that's okay. I just don't like being reminded of it when we're--" he nearly says something embarrassingly sappy, but one confession per day is enough. "--shagging."
It takes Ianto a moment to meet Jack's eyes but when he does, Jack says, "Okay."
"Okay? That's all you're going to say?"
"I'm your boss," Jack says lightly. "You only want to use the cool futuristic gizmo to increase workplace efficiency, I'm not going to argue."
Ianto could leave it there, but he's too stubborn for that. "I thought you might."
"There's a number of fun things I don't need to talk you into doing. I wouldn't waste my time pushing for something we don't both want." Jack shakes his head and adds, under his breath, "I can't believe it takes centuries for people to understand talking about sex makes things so much easier."
***
Ianto could keep the device but he slips it back into storage instead. He can't use it and not think of Jack, and it makes filing suddenly feel weird.
So he puts it back and stays late filing the old-fashioned way, and when he hears the soft thud of Jack's boots on concrete floors, he doesn't have the urge to hide. He stays where he is and keeps filing, listening to the door groan as Jack pushes it open and steps inside. Ianto keeps flicking through the filing cabinet drawer as Jack walks up beside him and smoothes a hand down his back.
"How much longer?" Jack asks, resting his chin against Ianto's shoulder. It's a casual touch and Ianto's surprised to realise he's missed it lately.
Ianto slides a manila folder into the correct spot. "Nearly done."
"Good," Jack says, staying close -- but not helping -- as Ianto files. "I was thinking Italian, that new place by the bay, maybe? And then back to yours."
Ianto puts the last file back in its proper place. "Sounds good to me."
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,863
Warnings: None.
Notes: Thanks to
oxoniensis for the speedy and awesome beta.Summary: The other version of him comes through looking exactly like him: neatly tailored suit over scrawny shoulders, hair a little long at the back (overdue for a trim), hands in his pocket. He gives Ianto a quick nod and then says, "Bit odd seeing yourself."
The device sits in the middle of the conference table. It's small, about the size of Ianto's palm, neon orange and a curved cone shape, like a sphere has been cut in half and squished a little. They found it by the edge of Splot.
Jack walks past, sees it and grins. He doesn't stop Tosh's careful exploration but Ianto recognises the knowing expression on Jack's face. "Know what it is?" Ianto asks and Jack shoots him a quick smile.
"Human design," Jack says easily. "49th century, back when time manipulation was all the rage in popular circles."
"What is it?" Tosh asks, serious.
"It's a TiMan. Personal time manipulator."
"Like your wrist strap?"
"No." Jack holds up his wrist, pointing at the simple leather band. "This is an impressive piece of equipment that does... more than I should tell you. When it's fully functioning. That," Jack points at the cheery orange device, "is more of a party trick. Lets you go back and relive two hours, and then wake up two hours in the future. It lets you hop around two hours, not travel for any length of time."
Ianto looks around the table: everyone wears similar frowns of confusion. Slowly, Gwen says, "What's the point of that? What can you do in two hours?"
Grinning, Jack raises an eyebrow. "If I have to explain that, Rhys has far less stamina than I'd assumed."
Gwen snorts. "They didn't invent a gadget just to go back in time and sleep with themselves."
"Think about the type of geeks that invent these things," Owen says, leaning over the table for a closer look. "Spend hours and hours pouring over data, stuck on your own. They probably would. Nobody else would want to sleep with them."
"So you're saying that mastering time travel was easier than making a realistic blow-up doll?" Gwen asks.
"Could be useful at work," Ianto says, ignoring the suggestive grin Jack gives him. "In an emergency situation, you could double the number of people responding to the situation and they'd have the same level of knowledge. In fact, since one version had already lived through it--"
"Temporary memory inhibitor," Jack interrupts. "A little like cloning memories. Up to the point of duplication, both remember the same history but while both are in the same room, each version only remembers their experiences. Otherwise, people try to divert emergencies and that really screws up the time continuum."
Tosh frowns. "How does it work? Wouldn't people get surprised by having a second version of them suddenly appear?"
"From what I remember, you had to preset the device. You turned it on at the start of the two hour period, and a second version would appear. Then it'd turn itself off after two hours and you'd pass out, waking up two hours later." As always, Jack loves being the centre of attention and loves showing off his knowledge. "Ianto's right. They were used on the earlier space-cruisers, as a back-up in times of emergency. Those things were run with skeleton crews and the computer systems had a lot of major flaws, so extra hands were important. Double the engineers, double the medics, and most things could be fixed."
"Should it go into the vault?" Ianto asks.
"Nah. I mean, try it if you want. It's fun, but there's only so much time you can spend in your own company. Just make sure you're lying down when you turn it off, saves a lot of bruises."
Gwen eyes it interestedly. Owen looks completely bored by the idea, which is probably for the best. Two Owens for two hours might use up the world's supply of sarcasm.
"Maybe later," Tosh says, moving on to the next unclassified device on the table.
***
Since the others don't want to use it, Ianto... claims it. Only for practical purposes, like organising the five boxes of mixed pages dropped on his desk by Owen, who'd said, "Oh, yeah, found these in one of the autopsy drawers. I think they were supposed to be filed, maybe last year."
After getting through one box, Ianto sees it's a two-man job. While Jack would certainly be willing to help, he wouldn't stay focused on the task for long. Gwen and Tosh could be talked into helping, but they don't care about filing, which means Ianto would have to double check their files anyway.
Using the small orange device seems most practical.
He gets a spare suit, clean shirt and a tie, just in case. (He's watched Terminator a few times; best to be prepared because there's never a good reason for filing naked.)
The other version of him comes through looking exactly like him: neatly tailored suit over scrawny shoulders, hair a little long at the back (overdue for a trim), hands in his pocket.
He gives Ianto a quick nod and then says, "Bit odd seeing yourself."
"Yes," Ianto says slowly. "I wanted to..."
"Do the filing," his other self replies. "I remember pressing the button. Nothing since then."
"Well, just this moment since then," Ianto corrects and they both nod.
"Do you want the first box or the second?"
"First," says Ianto. "Coffee?"
"After the first two boxes," the Other-Ianto says. Then they set to work.
***
Ianto wakes with the strange sensation of remembering standing on his left side, sorting through the first box, while he also stood on his right side, sorting through the second. The memories overlap. If he thinks carefully -- concentrates on the pages in his hand or the files he opened -- he knows he could remember both clearly.
It's still strange. But strange is something he's come to accept while working at Torchwood.
***
Upon reflection, Ianto decides it's strange but good. He still spent four hours filing but it only felt like two hours at the time, and he had company. Someone who understood the importance of following simple alphabetical and numerical order. Someone he could trust to remember that L always came before O and that 2-13-15 was less than 2-14-14. There was something reassuring about finding a manila folder filed wrongly, handing it to someone else to file and knowing it would go where it belonged.
He takes care to use the device responsibly. He only uses it at night, so no one will need him while he goes missing for two hours. Just in case, he sets his email to respond automatically, explaining when he switched the device on and where he'll eventually be found.
He watches for any side effects: being overly tired, or drained, or anything out of the norm. But it all seems fine.
So he keeps using it.
***
Then Ianto gets an idea.
***
"Ianto?" he hears Jack call out.
"Making coffee," Ianto calls back, pulling down a lever. The coffee flows through, dark and strong, and Ianto breathes in the scent. As he hears Jack walk towards him he nods over his shoulder. Other-Ianto steps back, disappearing into the shadows behind the stairs.
When Jack comes up behind Ianto, there's only one of him.
"Want to make a cup for me?" Jack asks, sliding warm hands around Ianto's waist.
Ianto nods over at the counter. He finishes filling the cup in his hand, and sets it down beside the others on the counter. "I already have."
"Three cups? I thought it was just us." Jack sighs, disappointed. "Who else is here?"
"It is just us," Ianto says, then the other Ianto steps out. "In a manner of speaking."
Jack, for his credit, only stares for a second. Then he laughs. "You've been playing with the TiMan?"
"Useful for filing," Ianto says.
"And a lot easier than trying to explain how the alphabet works," Other-Ianto adds. He takes a sip of coffee.
Jack digs his nails into the soft wool over Ianto's hips. "Is this leading where I think it's leading?"
"Well," Ianto stalls.
"The filing's done," Other-Ianto says suggestively.
Jack grins. "Have I mentioned that I love the way your mind works?"
Ianto snorts. Then looks sideways quickly, realising Other-Ianto snorted at the same time. "We should go back to mine," Ianto says as Other-Ianto says, "Your bed's too small for this, Jack."
"Who's driving?"
Ianto fishes keys out of his pocket. Looking over, he sees that Other-Ianto has done the same.
"We've both got keys," Other-Ianto says.
Ianto nods. "I'd rather drive."
Other-Ianto pulls a face, probably wanting to drive as much as Ianto does. Jack pulls his hands away and walks over to Other-Ianto, sliding his fingers under the jacket and over the thin material at the back of Ianto's waistcoat. Ianto knows how good that can feel.
Jack leans in, saying in a voice pitched just loud enough for Ianto to hear, "We can make out in the back seat."
***
It's very strange, Ianto finds himself thinking. Every time he looks in the back mirror, he can see Jack kissing him. Well, not him -- Other-Ianto -- but it's still him. That's where the strange part comes in.
It makes him think of that time in the interrogation room, after Jack first installed the mirror. Stretching back on the small table, legs wrapped around Jack, kissing and watching them kiss at the same time.
But this is watching without feeling it, and it's... odd. Very odd.
Ianto shifts in the drivers seat. It's also very hot.
When he glances back, Other-Ianto is licking along the line of Jack's jaw, just under the joint. Ianto tightens his fingers on the steering wheel. He knows how that feels, knows the soft press of skin under his tongue, the slight hardness of bone underneath; he knows the way it makes Jack gasp and squirm, clenching fingers into Ianto's back or shoulder or hip -- god, wherever Jack's holding at the time -- the way Jack can only take so much, then he'll grab Ianto, hands soft but firm against his cheeks, and kiss him like he doesn't need air.
Except from this angle, it looks more like Jack needs the contact to breathe, like he's drowning without his mouth on Other-Ianto's.
Ianto pulls into his street and parks quickly. He never realised he made so much noise when they kissed.
***
Ianto discovers some important things.
Firstly, a queen sized bed is big enough to fit three fully grown men.
Secondly, forewarned is forearmed. Or in this case, having spent a good while thinking about this -- thinking about Jack and what he'd do if he had a second pair of hands -- gives him enough of an insight into Other-Ianto's mind. Enough that when Other-Ianto nods his head, shifting it to the side just a little and raises his eyebrows in a question, Ianto nods and starts pulling off his own tie.
Jack's already on the bed. He shucked off shoes, socks, trousers and shirt surprisingly quickly, and now he's sprawled there, gloriously naked. Watching them.
Ianto slows down and Other-Ianto matches his pace: tugging at the tie, taking it off and folding it carefully. Flicking open the button at the neck of his shirt and then pausing, as if he'd just remembered his cuffs, undoing the cufflinks at each of his wrist -- putting them carefully in his jacket pocket -- and then returning to the shirt.
It's slightly hilarious the way that Jack's eyes keep darting between them as if he doesn't know where to look and can't bear missing a second.
When he's completely naked, he strolls up to the bed and Other-Ianto mirrors him. Both of them kneel on a corner of the bed, both of them crawling towards Jack and Jack's grinning widely, pleased as punch.
They continue with the symmetry, starting at Jack's ankles. Ianto wraps his hand around Jack's right ankle, bows his head, licks along the tendon, the curve of bone at the joint. Drags his mouth up slowly.
He has a vague awareness of the shuffling on the bed, of Other-Ianto probably doing the exact same thing -- pausing to bite sharply at the outside calf muscle, making Jack hiss through his teeth -- but he's too focused on the taste of skin under his lips to look over and check.
He's listening to Jack's gasp, to Jack's "Oh!" and "Surely you're not going to do that all night," because Jack's nothing if not impatient.
Ianto pauses, lips just below Jack's knee, and smiles up at him. "You have something else planned?"
"I'd like to kiss you," Jack says, smiling. He always takes a surprisingly innocent joy in sex; it baffles Ianto as much as it charms him.
Ianto nods and moves up the bed a little further, stretches out beside Jack, curled up against his shoulder and presses a kiss there. He works his fingers into the brawn of Jack's bicep, holding on tight. Waiting for Jack to reach out, to grab him, to pull him closer. To kiss him.
It only takes an extra few seconds, then Jack's kissing him. The moment that Jack pulls away, Other-Ianto's there with a hand on Jack's jaw, tugging him into a second kiss.
When they pull apart, Ianto looks past Jack, catches Other-Ianto's eye and grins. "Heads or tails?"
This is the advantage of having thought about it: he knows what Other-Ianto knows and he knows exactly how they thought about it.
So when Other-Ianto says, "Tails," Ianto nods, gets a hand on Jack's shoulder and pulls him onto his side. Jack rolls over to face Ianto, looking a bit dazed and ridiculously happy.
Ianto can't resist giving Jack a quick kiss. Then he shuffles down the bed, mouth touching random places as he goes: curve of chest, the soft dip below Jack's ribcage, the line of thigh leading to hips.
He lies down with Jack's cock right in front of his face and gets a hand beneath Jack's knee, lifting it to his own shoulder. Ianto really has thought about this. Picked out the easiest way to open his mouth, to suck on Jack's cock, to work his lips around the head.
He moves his head forward a few inches and lets Jack set the pace -- slow, so good -- then Jack freezes, letting out a small moan, a small "Mmmm..." sound. Ianto doesn't look up, he doesn't need to. He knows exactly what Other-Ianto is doing.
He knows because it's what he would do in Other-Ianto's place. Spread Jack wide, lick down between his cheeks, press his tongue inside. Fuck him so intimately with slow, wet strokes until Jack groans again, twisting his hips back.
Ianto slides his hand up the back of Jack's thigh, creeping higher until his fingers brush Other-Ianto's, until it's both of their hands holding Jack open. Jack sighs out his name -- "Ianto..." -- and Ianto sucks hard in response.
Mouth luxuriously full, Ianto listens to the sound of Jack breathing, the way it gets sharper, faster. Jack hooks his leg over Ianto's back, bare foot drawing patterns against his skin, rubbing aimlessly as every twitch of Jack's hips nudges his cock against the back of Ianto's throat.
Jack gets a hand in Ianto's hair, twisting painfully tight and repeats his name. The vowels grow shorter and harsher with each repetition, but it's still somehow a surprise when Jack comes.
It's not the lack of warning, because Ianto's used to that. It's the suddenness -- the speed of it -- that surprises him. Jack usually lasts a lot longer than that.
Then again, Ianto thinks, catching Other-Ianto's eye as he sits up and moves up the bed, Jack is somewhat out-numbered right now.
***
The second time they try it is in Jack's office with Jack spread out over his desk, Ianto fucking him with short, blunt thrusts and Other-Ianto sprawled in Jack's chair, kissing Jack with one hand on the back of Jack's head and the other sliding down Jack's chest.
Jack has Ianto's cock in his arse and Other-Ianto's tongue in his mouth and -- judging by the loud groans he makes as Other-Ianto's hand wraps around his cock -- couldn't be happier.
***
Ianto falls asleep wondering if it's possible to be jealous of yourself.
***
Ianto happily ignores the situation for a while. Jack doesn't hint -- well, Jack mentions sex as often as he usually does, but nothing specific -- and Ianto doesn't mention the device. He still uses it for filing late at night, though.
He's down in the archives when he hears Jack stomping down the corridor, hollering for Ianto, and reacts accordingly when the door swings open: he hides behind one of the filing cabinets.
"Ianto?"
He doesn't want Jack to see two of them there, but he doesn't exactly want to say that to Jack, so he holds his breath and waits until the door slams shut before he moves. When he stands up straight, he sees Other-Ianto sheepishly step out from behind the stack of archive boxes in the far corner.
"Oh," Ianto says.
"Yeah," says Other-Ianto, shrugging at him and looking guiltily towards the door. "This isn't really..."
"...practical," Ianto says eventually, running a hand through his hair. Frowning, he adds, "Do you want to..."
"Tell him? No." Other-Ianto pulls a face. The same pinched, just-bit-into-a-lemon expression is probably on Ianto's face too. "But we should."
Ianto hears himself sigh in stereo.
***
There's only so long you can hide from your combined boss and boyfriend before it gets ridiculous.
"This is getting ridiculous," Ianto hears himself say. Well, hears the Other-Ianto say beside him.
They're both crouched behind the coffee machine, waiting for the sound of Jack's office door closing.
"I thought you'd tell him," Ianto says, which is true. In a way. He'd thought if he ducked behind the bench, Other-Ianto would be forced to make an excuse; probably should have realised they'd both think of that.
"That doesn't work when we're both the same person."
"No, it doesn't." Ianto allows himself a sigh. He has to tell Jack, he knows it. If he doesn't force himself to walk into Jack's office right now and explain, he'll never do it and if he doesn't do it, Other-Ianto will never do it because he never did it in the first place. Even inside his own head, it's a bit confusing.
But he has to do it, so Ianto takes a deep breath, stands up and… finds that Other-Ianto has stood up as well. "Both or none, yeah?"
Other-Ianto grimaces. "We could always break the device."
It's not the first time Ianto's thought of it. "But this is Torchwood. As soon as you break something…"
"…You're going to need it for the next alien."
They give each other a hopeful smile -- which from the outside is not very convincing -- and head over to Jack's office.
When Ianto opens the door, Jack's sitting at his desk, staring at the ceiling. Jack gives a nod as Other-Ianto walks through the door and closes it behind him and then says, as casually as anything, "Decided to stop avoiding me?"
"We haven't really been avoiding you," Ianto says, as Other-Ianto says, "It's not really avoidance," and they both stop talking at the same time. There's a moment where Ianto and Other-Ianto eye each other, and nobody wants to talk first.
Thankfully, Jack breaks the silence with, "Any chance one of you could make me a coffee?"
Other-Ianto dashes out the door with a "Yes, sir," thrown behind him. Ianto would begrudge him the easy escape if he didn't know he'd do the exact same thing if he'd been the one standing closest to the door.
"It's not--" Ianto starts but it is, because he has been avoiding Jack. "I didn't think you'd noticed."
Jack makes a snorting sound of disbelief, rolling those ridiculously blue eyes of his.
Ianto has to fight the urge to shrug. "Look, it's just…"
"It makes you uncomfortable." Jack says it like he's never been uncomfortable but he's heard it's one of those things other people feel. "You could have said something."
Now, Ianto shrugs. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."
"As I recall," Jack says, dragging a finger across his lower lip, "so were you."
"Yes, but--" Ianto stops himself. He's not sure it should be something said aloud. Jack's watching as if he's vaguely interested, not annoyed and certainly not personally involved, and Ianto's pretty sure Jack's faking the nonchalance. Which means Jack really wants the answer.
If he's not faking it, then it's just plain indifference and he'd feel stupid keeping a secret Jack doesn't even care about.
"It's like seeing you with someone else," Ianto says a little too quietly. "I know it's me but it's not me at the time, and it feels like seeing you with someone else."
Jack smirks. "Always knew you were the jealous type."
"I'm not," Ianto objects instinctively, and then amends it. "Well, I am, a bit, but it's not like that."
"Then what's it like?"
"It's, well, it's like getting to see the future. I mean, I know I'm not always going to be around, and there'll be other people in your life. And that's okay. I just don't like being reminded of it when we're--" he nearly says something embarrassingly sappy, but one confession per day is enough. "--shagging."
It takes Ianto a moment to meet Jack's eyes but when he does, Jack says, "Okay."
"Okay? That's all you're going to say?"
"I'm your boss," Jack says lightly. "You only want to use the cool futuristic gizmo to increase workplace efficiency, I'm not going to argue."
Ianto could leave it there, but he's too stubborn for that. "I thought you might."
"There's a number of fun things I don't need to talk you into doing. I wouldn't waste my time pushing for something we don't both want." Jack shakes his head and adds, under his breath, "I can't believe it takes centuries for people to understand talking about sex makes things so much easier."
***
Ianto could keep the device but he slips it back into storage instead. He can't use it and not think of Jack, and it makes filing suddenly feel weird.
So he puts it back and stays late filing the old-fashioned way, and when he hears the soft thud of Jack's boots on concrete floors, he doesn't have the urge to hide. He stays where he is and keeps filing, listening to the door groan as Jack pushes it open and steps inside. Ianto keeps flicking through the filing cabinet drawer as Jack walks up beside him and smoothes a hand down his back.
"How much longer?" Jack asks, resting his chin against Ianto's shoulder. It's a casual touch and Ianto's surprised to realise he's missed it lately.
Ianto slides a manila folder into the correct spot. "Nearly done."
"Good," Jack says, staying close -- but not helping -- as Ianto files. "I was thinking Italian, that new place by the bay, maybe? And then back to yours."
Ianto puts the last file back in its proper place. "Sounds good to me."